Page 11

And suddenly, her mother’s discussions of how a husband would have full dominion over her body made Hannah jerk away.

She couldn’t lie on her back and let a man like Belgrave do what he wished.

Good wives were supposed to submit to their husbands, but, God help her, she could never let him touch her.

She didn’t know where the words came from, only that she couldn’t bear it any longer. “There will not be a wedding.” Her voice shook with nerves, sounding more uncertain than she’d intended. “I won’t agree to it. And if you will excuse me, I intend to retire to my room.”

Her mother scurried forward to try and stop her, but Belgrave lifted his hand. “Forgive me, Lady Rothburne, but perhaps if I had a moment in private with Lady Hannah, I could reassure her that I have only the best of intentions.”

The marchioness hesitated, and Hannah prayed that her mother wouldn’t dare allow such a thing.

“Wait in Lord Rothburne’s study,” her mother advised the baron. “I will speak with my daughter first.” She gestured for Hannah to sit down, and Lord Belgrave followed a servant into her father’s study.

The grim expression on her mother’s face was not at all encouraging. Christine sat across from her, and her face held nothing but disappointment.

“Hannah, you must know how much your father and I want what’s best for you,” Christine began. With a tremulous smile, her mother wiped at her eyes with a handkerchief. “We want you to have a wonderful marriage with every comfort you could possibly want.”

“Not with him,” Hannah insisted. “Mother, I won’t do it.”

“Is he really as awful as all that?” her mother asked softly. “He’s handsome and wealthy. You got off to a terrible start, I’ll grant you that much. But couldn’t you possibly give him a chance? This isn’t only about your future. The scandal will darken your father’s good name.”

“There must be another way.”

The marchioness rose and drew close, putting her arms around her. “Talk to him, Hannah. That’s all I ask. If, after this, you still don’t wish to wed him—” Her mother broke off, tears glistening in her eyes.

I don’t, Hannah wanted to say. But she kept silent, knowing that to pacify her mother was the easiest way to get rid of Belgrave. “Very well. I’ll talk to him.”

Christine embraced her again, wiping her eyes.

“Thank you, my dear. It won’t be so bad.

You’ll see.” Her mother took her by the hand and escorted her into the study.

“I’ll be right here in the hall,” she offered.

With an encouraging squeeze of the hand, she stepped back into the hallway, leaving the door wide open.

It was dark inside her father’s study, with the curtains pulled shut. Hannah waited for Lord Belgrave to speak. Instead, he approached the door and closed it. Seconds later, he turned the key in the lock.

She stood immobile, stunned at his actions. What was he doing? Did he plan to assault her in her own home? Hannah’s paralyzing fear suddenly transformed into rage.

“Be thankful that I will forgive this defiance,” Belgrave murmured. “You seem to be under the delusion that you have a choice in whom you wed. No other man will marry a woman who was defiled by a soldier.”

“Lieutenant Thorpe did nothing wrong. And I’d rather be a spinster than wed you.”

She wouldn’t simply stand here and become Belgrave’s victim. Good manners weren’t going to protect her virtue, only actions.

Hannah eyed the contents of the study, dismissing the books or the large globe in one corner. Where was a medieval sword when she needed one?

He sent her a thin smile. “Once you and I are married, no one will worry about the hours you spent with the lieutenant.”

“It was your fault,” she shot back. “All of this. And I know you’ve threatened to spread gossip about me.”

“Only the truth,” he said, with a shrug. “But if you marry me, I’ll forget all about it.”

“Do you honestly believe I would forgive you for threatening my family’s name?”

“How else am I to wed the daughter of a marquess?” he asked, his hand moving to her cheek. “The ends justify the means. Perhaps tomorrow you and your mother might begin shopping for your trousseau.”

That was it. Just being in the same room with Belgrave made her feel like insects were crawling over her skin.

When his mouth lowered to kiss her nape, Hannah reached for the gleaming brass candlestick.

Swinging hard, she struck Belgrave across the skull, and then another attacker hit him with a large dictionary.

The baron crumpled to the floor.

“That was well done,” Lieutenant Thorpe complimented her, emerging from the shadows. He wore only part of his slate-blue military uniform, while his jacket, shako and saber were missing.

Dear God, where had he come from? Not that she wasn’t grateful, but he’d scared the life out of her.

Hannah choked back her shock and stared down at the fallen body of Belgrave. Her heart was still pounding with horror at what she’d done. “Did we kill him?”

That was all she needed now. To be hanged for murder.

“I doubt it.”

She slumped into a leather chair, resting her forehead on her palm. Relief poured through her. “What are you doing here? I thought you’d wait a few days at least.”

Michael pulled a chair across from her and sat. “A soldier’s instincts. You asked me to prevent a marriage between you and Belgrave. I saw his carriage when I passed by the house.”

It was a mild way to state that he’d been spying on her. And yet, she was grateful. Knowing that he’d kept his promise to watch over her made her feel safe. “How did you get in here without anyone seeing you?”

The lieutenant pointed toward the window. “It’s not difficult. I thought I’d sneak in, see that you were all right and leave.”

Her breath caught for just a moment. He’d used a dictionary as a weapon. A choked laugh bubbled in her throat, but Hannah tamped it down as she studied Belgrave’s unconscious form. “I should probably get some smelling salts.”

“Leave him. He looks good on the floor after what he did to you the other night.”

She agreed with the lieutenant, but didn’t say so. “No, it’s really not a polite thing to do. I shouldn’t have struck him with the candlestick. My mother would faint if she learned of it.”

He turned serious, resting his forearms on his knees as he regarded her. “If you hadn’t done so, he would have forced his attentions on you.” The lieutenant’s words were brutally blunt. “And your parents could not have stopped him.”

Hannah’s hands started to shake. It was cold in the study, and she gripped her arms to try to warm them.

A squeaking noise caught her attention—the lieutenant was occupied with pushing the curtains aside and raising the window. “Come on. We’ll leave him here while you make your escape.”

“Not out there.” Anyone might see her, and it was impossible in her skirts. “I’ll just go back through the study door.”

“Do you plan to rummage through his pockets for the key?” he inquired. “Or will you shout for one of the servants to break down the door?”

Hannah winced at the thought of touching Belgrave. “There’s no other way, Lieutenant Thorpe. Even if I wanted to go out the window, my skirts wouldn’t fit.”

“You could remove some of your petticoats.”

“Never.” The thought made her ill. He might catch a glimpse of her ankle. Or worse, part of her stocking-clad leg. “It’s a terrible, ridiculous idea.”

He sat on the window sill, one leg in, one leg out. “I never said it was a good idea. It’s simply one of your options.” He shrugged. “Either way, I am leaving through this window.” He disappeared from the sill, and Hannah stared at the study door.

Outside, she heard the voices of servants and her mother. She was about to approach the locked door, when Belgrave suddenly stirred.

His eyes snapped open, and he groaned, rubbing his head. When he staggered to his knees, Hannah didn’t wait any longer. There wasn’t time to get the key.

She raced toward the window and saw that it was about a six-foot drop. Not as bad as she’d expected. Below, the lieutenant was waiting.

“Did you change your mind?”

“Don’t let me fall,” Hannah ordered. She had a fleeting image of flying into the shrubbery, with her skirts over her head. The vision made her stomach lurch. Ladies did not jump from the window into an unmarried man’s arms.

But her alternative was to face Belgrave again.

Why in the name of heaven did this have to happen to her? Hannah bemoaned the indignity of it all as she sat upon the window sill. Her tiered skirts fluffed around the window, the petticoats amassing in a large pile before her.

“I’ll catch you,” came his voice. Glancing down, she saw the Lieutenant standing with his arms outstretched. His face was confident, his arms strong. He looked as though he would never let anything happen to her. “Trust me.”

With a backward glance, she saw Belgrave stumbling toward her. Squeezing her eyes shut, Hannah let herself tip backwards. Though she longed to release a scream as she fell, only a muffled ‘oomph’ left her lips as she landed in his embrace.

Sure enough, every petticoat remained in place. The lieutenant lowered her down, and as they stood outside the servants’ entrance, she marveled that she’d done such a thing.

“To the garden,” she ordered. “Quickly, before anyone sees us.”

He didn’t argue, but led her toward the tall hedge, ducking around the corner. A crooked grin creased his mouth. “I suppose that’s the first time you’ve ever thrown yourself out a window.”

She flushed. “I had no choice. Belgrave woke up.”

His smile faded into a tight line. “You’re safe from him now. You can go back through the front door and tell your mother what happened. I doubt if they’ll force you to marry him now.”

“I should think not.” Hannah brushed at her gown, to give herself a way of avoiding his gaze. He was looking at her as though he wanted to kiss her again, and her nerves tightened. The boxwood hedge dug into her neck as she pressed herself against it. “Thank you, lieutenant.”

He acknowledged her thanks with a nod but didn’t leave immediately. She noticed the way his attention shifted toward the kitchen. His features grew tight, and she understood suddenly that he was hungry.

Though she wanted to send the lieutenant to the kitchen for a hot meal as a reward, she didn’t dare, for fear that her father would discover his presence.

“Go to the gardener’s shed, and wait for me. I’ll be right back.”

The lieutenant shook his head. “Lady Hannah, I have to leave.”

“You’re hungry,” she said quietly. When he was about to protest, she held up her hand. “I can see it. I’ll get a basket of food for you from the kitchen. You’ll have a meal as repayment for rescuing me.”

He took another step away from her. “It’s not a good idea for you to be seen with me again.”

“It sounds as though you’re afraid of my father.”

He grimaced at her implication, and Hannah moved in for the kill. “Don’t worry, lieutenant.”

She stepped toward the kitchen, her mood improving. “If Papa dares to try to kill you, I promise to defend your honor, just as you did mine. I’m quite good with a candlestick.”